Disclaimer: All characters, names, settings etc belong to their respective copyright holders, only much of the convoluted plot and a few characters and some objects are mine.

Chapter 6 – A familiar face enters the mix and a new game is begun

Brigadier Lethbridge Stewart tried to wipe again whatever it was off his uniform…not actually his uniform, his battle uniform, the dark green almost black cargo pants and plain shirt and jacket, no patches, no logos nothing which identified who they were, when Night Wolf was out in the field that's just what they were, a Night Wolf hidden in the Night, or the day or whatever it was.

According to their sources, Winter and the many other wi…

'No.' The Brigadier corrected himself. The other Sorcerers had confirmed that the war was winding up to a frenzy.

They didn't have many people within the wizarding Ministry of Magic, anyone who had come to work for them had been expelled, nearly killed and had come to Night Wolf wanting to help. Through the series of safe houses and networks that Winter and Andrew had established, Lethbridge Stewart, or The Brig as he'd come to be known by Winter and the others had got to know many of them, some had been hurt by their friends, abandoned by those they trusted, yet they still wanted to help in the war…the just didn't want to be a part of it.

He had just come back from a rescue/reconnaissance, they'd got word a safe house that they'd set up, where some of their contacts could rest and report any information was being attacked…

At some point as the fight was dying down someone had thrown something at him and another two officers, they'd…they'd screamed and it had been like they just…melted away screaming for their lives…it had gotten on him, not on his skin but then…

Their names were Dibs and Erlie, they had fled during an attack, the Brig had come to trust their judgement the way when ever they got close to a target they'd pause and sniff the air, their eyes shifting to that other place for a moment…

He rubbed the substance again with his cap, ruined anyway in the battle trying to help Dibs…

He was waiting in Night Wolf's infirmary the 'isolation ward', sealed away from everything else.

A woman came in wearing the orange hazardous materials garb.

"Brigadier…"

"Doctor…" He paused trying to recall her name, she'd recently transferred from UNIT. "Baker…"

"Sir. Let's see what this is…any burning, any itching…any other symptoms?"

He shook his head.

"Just that it's damn sticky, it's as though it's trying to creep through my uniform."

She took a test tube off a trolled a swab taking some of the substance and placing it in there.

She took at a bright green dropper and dropped it in. The sticky substance turned a sick purple. The Doctor looked worried and sick.

"Doctor Baker?"

"It's the same substance we've been seeing for the last week."

"What…?"

"Your incident report states two sorcerers were with you?"

"Dibs and Erlie…good men…they were hit with this…"

"It's a potion, we've got people working the books on it, it seems to attack the blood of a werewolf at an increased rate, like a contact based poison…"

"Am I safe…?"

"It seems to have no affect on people who aren't just a rash…get your clothes off, there's a fresh set in the draw, put everything that was touched in the bio-hazard bin…it'll be tested and destroyed…Brigadier…also don't be tempted to get any water…it seems to aggravate, I'll get a counter agent for you once you're dressed…"

The Brigadier would come to remember that battle and the ones in the future, their intelligence network was slowly being eroded and the wizard's dammed war continued to run rife through Britain, Wales, Scotland, France and Germany.

Night Wolf was hard working to its limits getting the information out there for various UNIT bases who thought it was an alien attack.

Then one day, at least 12 months since that battle it all just stopped, there were still reports, but the killing, the torturing stopped.

Supposedly the leader of one side of the battle this 'Voldemort' had been killed.

Despite that there were still mass murders that followed, but it did seem to quieten down…

Then it started again.

Night Wolf command was working on processing their new recruits into new sections, new people had flowed in from all walks of life…

Then the reports started again, teams from the Ministry of Magic, were supposedly targeting known werewolf safe houses, known to the wizarding world, rather than Night Wolf ones.

The line was they had to register of be locked up, some were forcibly given the truth drug…

It seemed the Ministry in all their wisdom had according to one official who worked in some minor paper pushing job 'they've decided to clean out all the dark creatures…the minister and…the others think its…the only way to stop anyone like…he-who-must-not-be-named ever coming again…', he'd been shaking and just wanted to escape to Europe or America where the Ministry had little or no influence.

--

Thomas Birmingham walked out of the ministry, his headache had been increasing, it had been constant ever since he'd been brought forth for trying to contact Harry Potter, saviour of the wizarding world.

The wizards many of whom he'd worked with for over 30 years looked at him with varying degrees of worry and disgust.

He understood the worry, he had worked in the Department of Mysteries, a department like Voldemort people didn't want to worry about.

He'd tried to fulfil the centuries old instructions, to inform any whom the prophecy may pertain.

After much research, from most departments he had a short list, and had attempted to visit and inform each recipient, the only one whom he couldn't was Harry Potter, stopped by Albus Wulferic Brian Dumbledore the protector to Harry Potter, or who claimed to be his protector.

The disgust, he was pretty disgusted at that. Working in the Department of Mysteries allowed him access to several 'dark' books, documents and even research performed before the current administration was in place, he had in the dark hours when there was hardly anyone in the building there were several areas that he'd investigated.

He knew a lot about the magic world, not just the wizarding world.

Then someone had 'tipped' the minister's special squad that he was werewolf, that he had lycanthropy.

Birmingham had never seen it as a curse, or a virus, or anything bad, he had been bitten in his early 20s, she had been a local apothecary. She still was as far as he knew, she'd apologised profusely upon waking up and finding his wounds. 'I always lock myself in the basement…I…I…always try….' She had started to cry at that point, apologising, trying to hurt herself…

He still found time to visit her, even during the war, they would talk, meet others…like them…

They stared at him as he exited the building, he could see the hate in their eyes, the worry, the fear…his headache got worse.

'That's what happens when your memories get bound.' A voice inside his head seemed to mutter, of course he knew about the mind arts, Occlumency and Legillemency, Oblivation and many of the more subtle forms of mental art, some that even the ministry had tried to forget about.

He could still think about the prophecy, but no one else could see it, even if he wished it…Dumbledore had wanted more…he seemed to recall, it had been a long, long day and the morning was slightly fuzzy.

Thomas Birmingham was sure at one point he might be…'disposed of' as the ministry's special squads called the 'problematic' lycanthropes.

There was nothing left at the ministry for him, they would soon as kill him if he walked back in, they were letting him go…because…because he'd been there longer than most of them and they…they feared that he knew their dirty secrets…

--

Andrew had made a name for himself at various points, mainly for simply walking through Diagon Alley….but not for that, he was supposedly not a wizard, and more precisely probably a lycanthrope, a werewolf.

He was known for assisting certain people on their way out of the wizarding world through either death, divorce or the simple desire to leave, he helped them 'get sorted' in the muggle world.

Thomas had heard about him, through various whispers, thought he was doing a good thing, his colleagues didn't think so when he'd voiced his opinions…

Thomas Birmingham knew that if there was anyone…who could help him find his place, to assist, work and whatever...

"Birmingham. A surprise to receive word from someone like you…"

Thomas Birmingham was sitting and waiting at a park bench in the middle of no where on a freezing morning, he'd watched the sun some up.

He'd asked some people about helping…he'd been sniffed over by a few people uncertain of him, he was a werewolf, a lycanthrope…he'd just lived with it a lot longer than some of these…pups.

"Andrew…" Thomas Birmingham looked up surprise that he hadn't detected Andrew's approach.

"We got word they made you walk out of the Ministry, surprised they let you out…?"

Thomas wasn't sure whether it was a question or statement, he merely nodded.

"So what do you want?"

"Straight to the point then, no tea, coffee, biscuits…" Birmingham muttered with a slight trace of sarcasm, Andrew chuckled lightly.

"Who tipped them off?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Being a wolf?"

"Not sure, someone tipped that I was a lycanthrope…maybe I annoyed the wrong people."

"How'd you do that?"

"Tried to fulfil instructions…"

"I trust you weren't trying to put up shelves…"

"Prophecy."

"Who?"

"I…I…ca…"

"They did something mental arts…oblivation?" Andrew stared at him Thomas could see the slight shift in his eyes. "No…something else, more personal…"

"Harry Potter…he won the war."

"'The-boy-who-lived'? I see…"

"Yes…perhaps…Albus Dumbledore was there also…" He said trying to change the subject.

"They didn't kill you…why come to us?"

"I don't know who 'us' is…but I want to help…I think I can help…I don't want to just go and live in a house attending functions and dinner parties….Andrew…I want to be doing something, helping people, deciphering things…I don't want any more people to be killed just because the ministry has decided we're evil…"

Andrew turned and smiled at him.

"Then I think we can help…" He stood up and gestured Birmingham to follow him.

They walked for some time silently before Andrew spoke.

"Sorry about the whole cloak and dagger thing Birmingham…most people we'd understand…they want out, we can help…but you…you've been in the lion's den…"

Birmingham nodded, he would have done the same…if he were in whatever situation Andrew was in.

"I understand…I just don't understand what…"

Andrew smiled as they made it over the second smaller hill, a dark green land rover was waiting.

"Get in." Andrew said as he walked round and started the engine.

Birmingham knew about most vehicles, his brother had married…someone who wasn't part of the wizarding world, they'd emigrated some years ago, she was a bit of a collector of cars and what not.

Birmingham had to admit sitting inside the land rover it did have a tangibility to it that magical travel didn't.

Andrew was passing him something.

"Read those, don't sign anything, just read it."

Birmingham began to read through the various pieces of paper half way through he turned and asked.

"I won't have to sign this with a blood quill?"

Andrew laughed.

"You're not the first one to ask that. UNIT's not that sort of organisation…" Birmingham just nodded as he would in the days to come as he heard more about this organisation and its Night Wolf.